Nightmares
by Lkay09
Summary: Ron's worst nightmare, years after the war is over


**A/N:** PLEASE PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE REVIEW! Thank you =]

They told him her heart stopped. They said something else, but he didn't hear it. He pushed past them into her room, absolutely _refusing_ to believe them. Hermione couldn't give him a beautiful baby girl and then just…just _die_. It wasn't right. That's not how it was supposed to be, ever. They were supposed to take Rose home, and then eventually have more kids, watch them go to Hogwarts and grow up, and then they were supposed to grow old and grey together and die together. She wasn't supposed to leave him _now._

She was lying on the bed, looking as peaceful as if she was sleeping. He stopped at the foot of her bed, afraid that if he got any closer he would see that she really _was_ gone. And he didn't think he could handle that.

Hermione was his other half. He'd known that since sixth year. He had probably known it since fourth year, but he had consistently denied it to himself until he simply couldn't anymore. He loved Hermione, insufferable know-it-all though she was, with everything he was. Every muscle, fiber, centimeter of him was hers. And she knew it. She knew perfectly well he couldn't live without her; why had she left him?

It wasn't fair, he thought, looking at her peaceful form, any of it. Rose was never going to know her mother. He wasn't going to get to spend the rest of his life with his wife, his Hermione. They would never have another child, would never kiss again, or make love again. Rose would never get to benefit from her mother's extreme intelligence and common sense. Harry and Ginny would lose their best friend. James barely got to know his aunt – he was only two, he wouldn't even remember her.

Ron focused on her face. Memorizing it. He knew that in less than an hour he would lose his opportunity to look at her ever again, except in the pictures that lined their small house. It wasn't _right_, he thought furiously.

He stepped closer to her, reaching out to take her hand. It was still warm. With his other hand, he stroked her cheek gently – in contrast, it was growing cold. That, more than anything, hurt. He felt like a vise was squeezing his chest so tightly he couldn't breathe. It was a moment before he realized that tears were pouring down his face. He gasped for breath, pressing his forehead against hers, his tears streaming down his face and onto hers. He could hear the door open, but he didn't bother to turn around. He didn't care who it was – nothing mattered anymore, nothing except Hermione's still, lifeless body laying here.

"Please," he whispered fervently. "Please wake up Hermione. Open your beautiful brown eyes and look at me, and everything will be right in the world again. Just open your eyes and tell me you love me and that you are coming home. That's all I need to hear.

"We have a daughter," he continued, pleading with her. "She's so beautiful. You'll love her. She's probably going to be exactly like you – intelligent and sarcastic and drop dead gorgeous. You have to wake up so that we can take her home together." He stared at her eyelids, willing them to open and show him the eyes that were so bewitching to him. He pressed a soft kiss to her cold lips, hoping that it would work just like in one of those Muggle fairytales Hermione had told him about.

Nothing worked. She lay there as still and unmoving as ever.

Ron felt like his heart was being stabbed and ripped and stomped on and pulled forcibly out of his body.

"Hermione, I – I wish I had t-told you how much I love you. You are ev-everything to me. Y-You are s-s-so beautiful, and so intelligent. I-I don't know w-why you chose m-me, of all p-people, to fall in love with and m-m-m-marry and have k-k-" Ron choked out the word, "kids with. I n-never fully appreciated y-y-you and I'm s-s-so s-sorry." He couldn't help it anymore – he burst into tears, sobbing freely there next to her.

"I love you so much Hermione." He whispered it to her, wanting her to know, _needing_ her to know. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Harry standing there, with tears running unchecked down his face. Ginny was standing at his shoulder, holding Harry's hand, staring at Hermione, transfixed and horrified.

A team of Healers and some other people in different colored robes came then, working around Hermione, casting spells to preserve her body. One of them, an elderly woman with a gentle, sympathetic face, started to slowly push Ron away from Hermione's body.

He lost it then. He started yelling at them all to stay away from her, to stop touching her. They began magically pushing her bed, with her on it, towards the door. He was still screaming at them, but nobody could hear him anymore. Harry and Ginny slowly followed the bed until Ginny collapsed. Ron was still yelling – he felt himself sinking, everything was turning into darkness.

He shot up in bed, sweat drenching his face and his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe.

"Ron?" he heard from behind him. She placed her hand on his shoulder, struggling to sit up. He turned to look at her, to drink in the sight of her, half-asleep and beautiful, lying next to him.

"Are you okay?" She asked softly. He felt his whole body relax, just knowing she was there with him, just feeling her so close. A smile crept over his face.

He lay back down and pulled her next to him, pushing a stray piece of brown wavy hair off her face, relishing in the feel of her skin, cool, not ice cold like in his nightmare.

"It was that dream again, wasn't it? The one about me?" He nodded slowly. She sighed and shifted as close to him as her six-month tummy would let her, and put her arms around his waist.

"Listen to me," she said firmly. "That dream is _not_ going to come true. _Nothing_ is going to happen to me, Ron. Okay?" He nodded again and smiled, loving the sound of her voice.

The closer Hermione got to her due date, the more the nightmare plagued him in his sleep. The one where she died and left him alone to raise their daughter. Sometimes it included someone from the Ministry coming to take Rose away, saying that Ron wasn't good enough to raise the child of Hermione Granger. It terrified him, more-so than any other nightmare he'd ever had in his entire life.

Ron placed a hand on her rounded belly, relishing the feel of the baby kicking him. A grin split his face. He looked back up at his wife.

"Hermione, promise me something." She looked at him warily. "Promise you'll never leave me." Hermione smiled, an amused look coming into her eyes.

"Of course, Ron; I promise."

"It's just…" he took a shaky breath and the amusement faded from her eyes. "I can't lose you, Hermione. You know, most people, if their husband or wife died, they would grieve but in a few years they would try to pick up their lives and move on. But I – I couldn't _do_ that. You're _**it**_ for me Hermione. I can't love anyone else the way I love you. You're my other half and I don't remember how to live without you."

Hermione's eyes had welled up with tears as he was speaking, part hormones and part emotions at the pure love she was hearing from Ron. She couldn't even think of a reply, let alone make herself say anything, for minutes after he spoke.

"I love you, too," she breathed. "And you won't have to worry about finding anyone else to love. Nothing is going to happen to me. You are going to have to put up with me for the rest of your life. _Both_ of us," she added emphatically, placing her hand over Ron's on her stomach. "We aren't going anywhere. I promise." She pressed her forehead to Ron's and squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to let any of the tears leak out. A few did, though, and she felt Ron kissing them away, his lips soft on her cheeks. She opened her eyes to meet his blue ones.

Ron was so relieved that she had promised. Hermione was a woman of her word. And everything he had said was true – he absolutely couldn't live without her. The few times he had been sent away on assignment overnight he had tossed and turned for hours without the comfort of her arms around him like they were now.

But it was okay, because she was going to be okay, and their baby was going to be okay. He pressed his lips to hers softly, just relieved to feel her breath on his cheek and her heart beating next to his.

Ron slept better that night that he ever had before.


End file.
